Don't Love Me
by J S Arnold
Summary: Damon picks up a girl in need from the side of the road, not realizing that she is a transitioning vampire. It's so tempting to keep her as his own little secret from the rest of Mystic Falls. He wants her to be his pet, but it is not long before her sadistic sire comes to town-wanting her back. Will Damon get to keep her? Will she be more than just a pet?
1. Chapter 1

A slightly AU (Alternative Universe) story

Vampire Diaries is not owned by me

 **Don't Love Me**

 **Chapter 1**

There aren't words to describe how Jennifer feels, not that she's really tried finding any. It's as if all the will-power she has at her disposal, usually, has dissolved into dust. Not even that, but what is smaller than particles of dust? It seems now she cannot describe anything more than her surroundings. She is in a forest, she thinks, a place with lots of trees. They're tall and thick and dark, and unfamiliar.

 _Why am I here now, where was I before?_ She can't remember, She can't remember anything, not how she got here or why. She wonders, _what in the hell has happened for me to wake alone, laying amongst leaves somewhere I do not recognize_. Most of all, she wonders who brought her to this place to die.

 _Too serious, Probably it's nothing as serious as that._

Her knees ache under her, and despite this, she has gotten to her feet. She's standing, her long red hair heavy with dirt... But then she is not. On her back again, she's trying to catch her breath and somehow think through the pain. Her chest feels empty of all the usual things, heart, lungs, liver, but filled with fire, her body's taught with the agony, splayed out on the woodland floor like a discarded doll. She's hungry-but she's not. She's something... But she cannot decide what it is.

A rustling to her right. Jennifer's head lifts from where it has been resting down on the pale skin of her chest. There, just metres away, something's disturbing the thorny bush, the one full of ripe red berries. The fruit doesn't interest her, it's the something behind the bush that has her mind riveted. _What is it? I want to know what it is_. It's as if she has to know whether it presents a threat and whether she should run while she still has the option to.

All her life she's tried best not to confront things that frighten her. She reasons that it is a good way of staying unharmed and alive. It's worked for her so far, so why am she hesitating now? Surely she is bigger and stronger than anything lurking in this forest. _C'mon Jennifer, don't be such a baby._

Out comes a brown and white hare about the size of a cat, it's so big and fluffy and harmless. Despite knowing a scratch is the worst that can come from it, she's squealing and closing her eyes tight. She has never seen a hare in the flesh, instead always on television, and the feel of it brushing against the bottom of her legs makes the pain within her strengthen. She wants to scream at the thing to get away from her, but her mouth is so full of saliva that she's afraid of even parting her lips.

She can hear it moving away from where she's standing and cracks an eye open. Hop Hop Hop. It squeaks and falters. Something sharp protrudes from it's leg and Jennifer can tell without looking too closely that it is barbed wire.

 _Poor thing must be in so much pain_. She slowly approaches it, with the intention of seeing if there is anything she can do to ease it's pain, when the torture begins anew. She's falling again, I'm so dizzy, she can't stop the world spinning or stop myself from landing face first in the dirt, or control her body as it crawls through the dirt. It's as if they are separate, her body and her mind, and it's all she can do to watch and wait to see where it takes her.

Her body's muddied hands reach for the hare in a movement she can barely follow, and an instant later the struggling little furry body is pressed against her mouth. It smells so good, she just want to taste it, to see if it tastes as good as it smells.

 _What is wrong with me?_ These aren't her thoughts. She's not an animal, a thing. She stops herself from devouring the hare whole, like a part of me wants to, but she cannot prevent herself from taking a nibble of the soft, pale flesh. The nibble becomes more quickly and it takes all her strength of will to tear her gory mouth away. Now she can see what she's done to the poor creature, and it is horrific, animal-like. _I don't want to see._ She can't believe what she has done to it, that she has killed. What has happened to make her this way?

In the distance she can hear the sounds of traffic. Lots of cars. It means that maybe, it's possible, she can find help, or a phone. _I need to go to the hospital,_ she thinks, knowing that she's wounded more heavily than she has ever been before. There's blood all over her satin blouse, and on the pin-stripe trousers (she can see crimson where the stripes should be grey), and it feels possible that she has a heart attack. It is an explanation, somehow, she can live with, but it doesn't fully satisfy. It doesn't explain how she came to be unconscious and alone, and lost.

Her body's screaming for her to stop moving. _I would stop if I thought I would ever begin again._ Determination to find help is all that keeps her from dropping to all-fours and howling in pain, and now that she has finally made it to the road side it feels to her as though something is trying to break through her ribs.

 _How will I attract the attention of anyone when I can hardly stand straight?_ Cars do not travel this road as often as she would like and in her mind she knows that there is a chance no one will stop for her at all. She doesn't like to think about that. If no one sees me and helps, tonight might be her last. She is well aware of the predators and scavengers living in the forest. She knows that they will find her in the dark.

 _Please God, please send something my way... anything_

She's almost asleep when bright lights shine behind her heavy eyelids. Please, she pleads silently, please.

The silence following the car turning off is somehow more than before it came. Jennifer is very aware of the night time noises now that they are no longer all around her. She's suddenly missing the flapping of wings in the dark, the scurrying of tiny feet amongst the leaves on the forest floor. It is too quiet. And then a door slams.

Her mind is racing. She knows that she is breathing hard, but her heart feels as if it's barely beating at all. _Shouldn't my brain send all my organs the same message of panic?_

A dark figure is silhouetted against the bright car lights, approaching me. Whether it is friend or foe, there is no way to know, but she does not care. Even if it is a wood-dwelling maniac with a hidden lair full of dead cats, at least she might be put somewhere warm. Warmth's all she can think about. She's so cold, it feels to her as though she might die if she doesn't get any heat.

The sound of sniffing captures her attention in a vice and holds it. It looks like a man, but could the figure be a beast?

"Don't..." she can barely get the words out of my mouth, She's suddenly numb all over and too exhausted to put up much of a fight if the thing attacks. She knows she cannot wait for an answer, but getting up from where she's landed is proving too damn difficult. Now she's taken my eyes off the approaching dark shape to concentrate on getting herself moving, and soon she regrets it. She can feel his energy directly behind her. How has he gotten so close, so fast? The word has to fight to get out past her frozen lips. "Don't..."

"I'm not going to." His voice is neither low nor high. It's velvet, smooth and rich. It has almost forced her to stop crawling away, almost. "But you're bleeding," How can he know that in the dark? "I think something else might."

As if words can summon darkness, something appears to be waiting in the shadows. Waiting for what? What can it be waiting for? Why does the dark suddenly feel as if it has a hidden agenda?

Her hand is held out to the dark, as if inviting the night to take it, and long fingered hands suddenly accept. Her instincts are screaming at her, telling her what a mistake she has made, but what can she do? She needs help and would take it from anyone.

"Hello?" She asks. _What have I invited, what have I done?_ Strong arms bring her flush against a chest that is well chiselled and rock solid. Her feet must be a couple of inches off of the ground.

"I cannot leave you here," he whispers into her hair before a gust of wind takes her breath, and it feels as if she is flying.

A/N: Reviews are appreciated, as they make writing easier, and I also like to know whether the story is liked or not :-)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Dark Damon in this story

Vampire Diaries is not owned by me

 **Don't Love Me**

 **Chapter** **2**

Damon has Jennifer in his bedroom now, having raced to bring her here, where it is safe for both of them. He cannot make sense of the situation, why she has been put in his path. Why was she in the forest, he wonders? What has attacked her? And, most importantly, will she be missed by anyone? Will anyone come looking for her?

"What happened to you?" He whispers the words, too quiet for human ears, his mind not really focused on her answer - he doesn't really care what she says. He's already thinking ahead.

He is strong enough to hold her closely, but it is a struggle. He has to maintain a grip on her body so she doesn't slip to the floor, but the smell of her blood... She's bleeding more than a little and her blood is strange. It's not a normal smell, but what the difference is he cannot tell. It's as if she's human, and at the same time not. What can it mean? Does he want to know? Does it have anything at all to do with this _bond_ , this... this attraction he feels to her? It must do, he doesn't believe in fate.

"Jennifer, are you still with me?"

His voice is as soothing as anything she has ever heard, and her heart is almost silent in her chest. "Who... are you?" She cannot speak the words quickly, normally, though she tries. A smile crinkles the corner of his mouth. Not humorous but self-deprecating, it looks to her almost sad. Who is this man, her knight in shining armour? That's what he is to her at the moment.

She is well aware that without his aid she would have more than surly be dead, still laying on the forest floor. If he hadn't found her when he did, before night fell, her injuries and her blood would have brought predators from far and wide to her side. She thinks of foxes, of wolves. They might have eaten her alive. She truly _does_ owe this beautiful man her life. She feels awkward; will he want anything in return for this safety?

"Wait here a moment." His excitement is growing at a rate he's never felt before. He thinks that he might have found _the one_ , the one that would be his and his forever. There will be no sharing her with anyone-this one would be his and his alone.

Her head snaps to the side at the sound of his voice and she watches him stroll out the room, looking uncomfortable. He moves as if he is focusing on every step, and it reminds her of a soldier heading off to war. He couldn't _really_ , really, be gone for just a moment.

It is shame to have to do this to her, it really is, but he feels that he has no other choice. Reaching into the shadowy pocket above the fireplace in the parlor

Damon removes a key. Stefan has never discovered any of his secret hiding places, and so he knows nothing of the secret chamber hidden beneath a white-oak tree deep within the forest. The things he's hidden there over the years... the snacks... the banquets of passion... Just remembering has him vibrating with anticipation. It won't be long now until he feels that pleasure again.

She doesn't hear his footsteps at all, but suddenly he is standing in the doorway of the room and there is a slight, yet unmistakeable, gleam in his eyes. Every man getsthe same look when they thought about sex, and _his_ eyes are gleaming with it. There is something very dangerous and foreboding about being at the mercy of _anyone_ with the expression he has right now. _He can do anything to me_ , she is so vulnerable, she couldn't move if her life depended on it, which it might.

He is holding a heavy, black-iron chain and by the sounds coming from the hall it is attached to something heavy on the other end. The sound is a scraping sound, like claws on the wooden floorboards.

"I brought you a little something," he tells her without any feeling, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. Out comes a packet of bright red liquid, almost like the colour of blood, and I'm scrambling to catch it as he throws it my way. "Bon Appetit." It sounds very much like an order, but he shrugs as if he can't care less what she does with it.

Looking down at the bag, she prepares herself to ask what's in it, _is it safe_ , but instead the question she asks is "Who are you?" for a second time. There is a little more of a demand in her voice now, as if the hallucinogens are beginning to leave her system. Her mind seems to be becoming more clear, too, as feelings of frustration begin to rise. She feels suddenly very angry at the world, and she wonders if the stuff swirling around in the sachet has anything to do with it.

"Not important. Drink." Damon stares hard at her, as if drinking meant more than it should. He can see by her face that she doesn't understand, that she doesn't understand why she should be drinking blood. On all accounts, she should be ripping into the bag, as her body needs the blood to finish the transformation into vampire. For some reason she doesn't seem all too eager. "Use your teeth, it should be easy to break the seal. _No_ , bite into it." He is watching her closely as she finally bites into the plastic, easily ripping it away, and he finds himself riveted.

There is something oh so _innocent_ about this one. She was so confused and lost. It is _intoxicating_ , what he had been yearning to have in even his human days. She won't be made aware that _his way_ isn't the way of _some_ of his kind. Stefan will have to just suck it up; this one is _his._

Through the door comes a thick and heavy chest. If he did not have vampire strength he would have found the damn thing impossible to move. Inside it is so packed with various toys that he has to keep a padlock on just to keep the lid from flinging open. Besides, he doesn't want Stefan to find his toys and use them with Elena. _These_ are his.

The chest comes within less than a metre of her and her fangs instinctively extend from her gums. There is something distinctly menacing about it, and she can only guess that her fangs appearing coincide with feelings of fear. She is very afraid of what is inside that box, and also of her captor as he smiles down at her with his fangs showing.

"I may not be your sire, but you _will_ do exactly as I say, understood?"

Jennifer nods silently, not quite sure what she is agreeing to. Her thoughts are lingering over his first words: _I may not be your sire_. What does that mean, and how does it affect her? What kind of power does he have over her? If her 'sire' is the one who left her in the forest to die, what does it make her, what is she? "What am I?"

"Mine, for the time being." Her grips the padlock and wrenches it away. The lid of the chest springs open immediately and inside she can see the shining metal links of a chain and something fluffy. Handcuffs. She has a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Until you become useless to me."

 **A/N: Review please**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated for a few days, I felt too distracted by my birthday :-) The change of tense in some parts is deliberate btw

Warning: Sexual situations

Don't Love Me

Chapter 3

Damon's touching her lightly with the 'cat o nine tails', lightly stroking her bare flesh with the cotton cords, and the thought of him using it sends thrills of fear through her body. He can see her tremble, and it is mouthwateringly good. He couldn't have left her, alone, scared, in the forest, now could he? _That would have been wrong_. Someone, like Elena or Stefan, would have probably guessed what Jennifer is turning in to and done something about it. He knows he has only a little time.

 _Not until he's finished with her. Not until she has learned what it means to be a vampire, and that he is her master._

"I do not know who turned you, but I suppose I could find out..." He strokes her and then, with a sudden and powerful flick of his wrist, he slaps her hard with the whip. His free hand goes to his groin and he begins to massage the tender, stiffening flesh. The motion was instinctual, thoughtless, but he can see that she understands his meaning better now. She won't be surprised when he asks for one little thing in return for his assistance. "...if you're willing to be some things in return..."

 _ **Be**_ _some things? Be? Doesn't he mean_ _ **do**_ _, do some things for him?_ Not that she relishes that thought either _, but surly_ _ **doing**_ _was better than_ _ **being**_ _._

"Wha-" she begins, but the searing pain from the whip's kiss stole her breath. She can see the cut over her shoulder, but it heals in a matter of seconds. Her body is healing itself at a phenomenal rate, and yet this doesn't bode well. If she ever escaped him, how on earth would she report him if there is no evidence of his abuse? The police would dismiss her without a second thought. For all she knows the man is an outstanding member of society, and the authorities would take his word over hers.

"No talking. No making a sound, understood?" He raises his arm again threateningly.

Her lips part but she somehow stops herself in time. She doesn't want another cut on her body, even if it _does_ heal in an instant. She drops her head and nods her understanding.

"Good girl." He rests his hand atop her head and ruffles her hair. He can feel her tensing at his touch, but she has done something right and she ought to know it.

-%-

Elena smiled at Stefan, her true love, everything that meant anything to her in the whole world, and felt somehow at a loss. She couldn't quite explain it, even to herself, but something was making her feel uneasy.

Not many things made her discontented these days, she had so much to be happy about that there was no room for any negative feeling. One of those things though, was Damon. Damon would still hang around her most days, even when she had made it painfully clear who she had chosen, even with Stefan's strong disapproval. She wanted _Stefan_ , so why does _his_ absence make her long for him?

"Have you seen any sign of Damon lately, Stefan?"

His shoulders instantly stiffened. Hearing his brother's name was still difficult for him, and hearing it come from _her_ lips made it even harder. Why couldn't Elena just forget him, he thought, Why couldn't she be content with him, with his love? "No I haven't, I thought we discussed this before." His tone was terse and unyielding, but he knew in his heart that he could not deny Elena anything.

"If we see no sign of him for a couple more hours, I'll call him."

-%-

Her neck is straining to keep her head up. She's bent at the waist with her wrists bound tightly at her back with fluffy handcuffs. She's naked, feeling all the stay breezes in the room touch her intimately. Her lips feel as though they are bruised, and her teeth...it feels as though something is crawling on them. Her gums are tingling and she can taste her own blood in her mouth. "Please...don't..."

Her moans are like a drug to him, as addictive as heroin, or blood. Females of this age are all too much _liberated_ for his liking. He remembers his youth, how the wives and daughters knew their place, and thinks of how much better things were then. Liberation is only for the slaves of old, not of today. If women got any more liberated they would become _unmanageable_.

He smacks her on the rear with a bit more force than he has ever used before, and watches intently as her breasts shake with her shudders. He loves the sound of her gasp, but it is something else that needs to be worked on. She is a bad girl; she knows that she isn't supposed to make a sound, no matter how much she thinks she wants to. As his submissive, she should have no desires other than to please him. He smacks her again and she whimpers. _Bad girl_.

Stepping away, Damon unzips his trousers slowly and sees her almost turn to look behind her at the sound. It's good that she's controlling herself, it's progress and something that should be _rewarded_... He pulls down his trousers and his manhood springs free, unrestrained by underwear and eager. Because she's been such a _bad_ girl, and because he is her master, he doesn't feel the need to prepare her for the pain of the first time.

"No!" The word rips from her gaping mouth without her permission, or more importantly, _his_. _The pain is just too much for her to keep silent, surely he will understand._ There is only silence as he thrusts in and out of her and she turns her head to look back at him. He is glaring at her with the darkest eyes she's ever seen. Whether they're dark with anger or with lust is unknown, but it scares her nonetheless. There is no emotion she can understand in their dark depths, nothing she can reason with. He has never seemed so _inhuman_ until now, when the façade is torn away and she can see the monster that lies underneath.

From the pocket of his jeans, which lay in a puddle at his feet, a phone begins ringing and in a flash Damon has exit her and has the phone pressed against his ear. "Stefan," he growls, "What is it?"

She feels empty without him inside her, as if now she cannot live without the feel of him. It's a curious feeling, the emptiness, and she knows that she should not want him again. The itching in her throat, in her cheeks, her eyes, is making itself known now she has nothing to distract her. If blood is what she needs, where can she get it? In frustration she growls.

Damon's eyes snap to her, but not before he hears that Stefan has heard the growl too. _Bad, Bad Girl._ "It's nothing, it's just my stomach." He hangs up the phone and lets his own growl escape his lips. "Stupid bitch."

-%-

"Well?" Elena asked, her tone careful after a look at Stefan's furious expression, "Where is he now, Las Vegas?"

Stefan shook his head in a negative. He doesn't know where his brother is, but the growl he heard was definitely not his, and not anything canine. It had been vampire, there was no doubt about it. His brother had had sex in his voice, Stefan had heard that tone so many times in the morning that there was no mistaking it, and his brother was only into women. There was a chance that Damon had gotten lucky with a vampire woman, but he knew from experience that they were more difficult to bed than a tigress. Stefan didn't think his brother was that careless with his family jewels.

"Something's not right."

"We should go see Damon, wherever he is." A small smile touched his lips. "Should probably start with his bedroom, he spends most of his time in bed."

"That's not fair, Stefan."

"Isn't it?"

A/N: Good?


	4. Chapter 4

Own nothing

 **Don't Love Me**

 **Chapter 4**

Damon shuts off the phone and tosses it to the side, not caring if it breaks; He can always get another one, he lacks patience, it is not as if he wants for money. There is something he wants to break, though, and it is the woman standing in front of him. Why did she make a sound, and why one that cannot be explained away easily? His nostrils flair and he feels as if he cannot get enough air. It as though he is choking on his fury, the violence rushing up his throat.

Jennifer's hands are spread out in front of her to ward him off, and notices they are trembling. It's the hunger raging inside her, but it also the terror of knowing there is no escape. If she could run, where would she go to? There is nowhere she can go that will be out of his reach, so why risk making the situation worse when her punishment might not be too bad? Not too bad. She cannot fool herself one bit, she knows that it is going to be bad.

He takes her by the arm and starts dragging her along by it. He pulls her halfway across the room then stops to take the whip and a blindfold from the chest of toys. The strength with which he forces her down causes her skull to crack when it strikes the ground, and yet she does not fall unconscious. Any human would be lost in sweet oblivion now, but she is still awake and fully aware - She just can't move, not even a finger. She can see, she is aware, and she can feel.

Damon steps to a dark wood panel set into the wall beside the large bay window and stares at it intently. For a long moment nothing at all happens, there is silence and nothing else, and then there is a clicking, like the sound of a lock being undone. Without him having to touch a thing the panel shifts to the left revealing a hollow square, a hiding place built into the wooden wall. Finally his hands are being used for something, as he reaches inside it's depths to remove a small pouch made of black velvet.

He moves so quickly she doesn't see him move from the place beside the wall, but he is suddenly crouching down on the floor behind her. He is completely silent, and it makes waiting for his next move unbearable. She wants to say something, anything, something to break the silence, but she cannot breathe, she cannot speak, she cannot scream. Her body doesn't jump as his smooth, cold skin brushes hers but her heart races as he wraps thick fabric around her face and her eyes. She can do nothing as he steals her sight, and yet another of her abilities. She is aware. She can still feel.

And still, he makes no sound, not even when he wraps arms around her chest. Restraints aren't necessary with her all but completely paralyzed. She doesn't feel any body heat coming from him, in fact she feels colder in his embrace, and she is reminded that he is no normal man, and that she is no normal woman. They are vampires, or at least she will be once the transitional period is over. Maybe then she will be strong enough to fight him and whatever is keeping her from fighting him now.

"Only needed a drop of it," his breath his unnaturally cool and smells of all the things she has ever wanted in the world. Blood is what she craves most, but vodka has never smelt so good and she can almost taste it in her mouth when she breathes in. "Vervain." It's all he says, and she doesn't know what it means. She can only guess that it is the drug that he's used to keep her immobilized.

It takes seconds for her eyes to grow heavy, but it takes longer for her to give up trying to keep them open. She fights against the shadows trying to pull her under, she fights with everything she has to keep the dark from consuming her. It's not just that she doesn't want to lose herself, she knows she cannot forget. If she stops fighting she has nothing, and she will be nothing. If she gives in to him she will never be free. Her mind goes blank of any thought. She can hear. She can still feel.

"This should keep you from doing anything else stupid," he hisses, dragging her across the floor to somewhere she cannot see. She's so vulnerable now, so disabled, and she knows that he knows that she is completely at his mercy. He doesn't lift her down the stairs, instead he drags her down them too, slowly. She feels every hard-wood steps, she suffers every sharp edge on her way down. He sees to it that she lands at the bottom hard.

Jennifer wonders if this torment will ever end, or if his plans are to drag her by the arm until her body is so torn and battered that she never recovers and is doomed to spend eternity as a cripple.

He drags her across soft grass until he suddenly stops, where at she has no idea. Has she missed some of the journey, did she fall unconscious for a few precious minutes? She knows she must have traveled some distance because her body is throbbing more than she thought it ever could.

He drops her arm and moves away, she can hear his agile feet on the grass getting further away from her. She can hear keys jangling on a chain and she finds her breath being held by the fear, frozen in her chest. She expect her hands to be cuffed, as needless as that would be, but instead she hears the sound of tortured hinges squealing. Stale air rushes out from somewhere and she can feel him again. Instead of more dragging, she is surprised to feel him take her into his arms, bridal style. She cannot hear him breathing, although her face is right up against his chin, but he's carrying her, she can feel that. He must be so strong not to show any sign of strain.

Will she ever be as strong as him?

He carries her down a flight of stairs and into a room that is even colder. She knows it is a big, stone room, although how she cannot fathom. It's as if her body is adapting and expanding senses she hasn't known about until now. She knows that it is a stone table he sets her down on, a stone table that rubs harshly against her tender flesh, and she can smell damp soil. It is as if he has taken her down, into the earth.

"To make sure you can't go wondering off without me..." he speaks conversationally, relaxed, confidently, and attaches handcuffs to her wrist again. She hears a click as they lock tightly. "I want you to be a good girl and keep as quiet as you possibly can. No screams, no calling for help, not attracting attention to yourself. I want to come back here and find you exactly like this, ready for me..."

The sound of his voice falls out of focus as a strong dread consumes her from within. She knows what he means by ready, but it will take more than time to make her body willing. When he comes back, ready himself, she knows it won't matter if her loins aren't burning. He will take her anyway, forcing himself deep inside her and causing her the maximum amount of pain. He told her not to scream, but scream she would, later. He is silent for too long and she begins to wonder if he will even wait for later.

"Do you understand?" His tone implies terrible things if she doesn't.

"I... Understand..." She feels a pressure growing inside of her, an need to give him a title "... Master..."

There is the sense of speedy movement, and briefly she feels the press of soft lips against her own, before everything else in the room is totally still and silent. She knows that she is alone, even with her eyes covered and her hearing muffled by all the thoughts in her head.

Where is he, and how long will it be until he comes back? Will he leave her here with her wrists bound and her eyes blind?

She is completely at his mercy.

A/N: How was it?


	5. Chapter 5

_Own nothing_

Don't Love Me

Chapter 5

There isn't much for Jennifer to do, waiting for Damon to come back, except take in her new surroundings and search for any weaknesses that she can utilize to escape. There must be something because this room is old and not built to stand against modern technology; but, she has to remind herself, she is naked and thus not wearing anything that could possibly help her. Her knowledge of prison-escape technology is limited, anyway. Suppose she _did_ somehow have a tool, would she be able to make herself use it?

It was not until he left her here alone that she realised something within her had changed. Her way of thinking has shifted, regressed. He's changing her in ways vampirism couldn't. He's changing how she sees the world, who she is, who _he_ is to her. Perhaps it is just being in this underground chamber, but until now she has never yearned to be with anyone like she does him. When will he be back, and can she wait that long?

Without him to tell her if what she does is allowed, she doesn't know what to do with herself. The chains do not hurt her wrists as much as they used to. Their tight hold on her is not as agonizing as the itch between her legs. The restraints prevent her from relieving herself of it and, not matter how firmly she presses her thighs together, the discomfort is driving her wild. Is this what he meant by being _ready_ for him? If he were here she would be begging him to relieve her of this torture. Her desire to prove him wrong is less than her need to be rid of this agony.

Out the corner of her eye, to her right and just in front of the only door into the room, she spots something wooden and long. It takes her a moment or two to realise what it is, the single flickering candle in the corner of the room does not illuminate much. It is a stick, a thick, ridged, wooden stick just in reach. A small voice, a tiney tiny voice, warns her not to do it, to leave it alone, but her need is too great. She cannot look away from it, and feels her body straining as she reaches for it.

Just as her fingertips brush the rough, nobbled object, the door to the chamber crashed open and Damon appeared, his smile disappearing in an instant. She cannot bring herself to meet his eyes, she feels so ashamed, as if what she had been planning to do with the stick went against what she had been told. But she isn't being naughty, is she? He never told she couldn't relieve herself, only that she could not attract attention. It is _his_ fault she feels attracted to him, it is _his_ fault that she has all these dirty desires in her head. She doesn't want to be here, and nothing he told her would change that.

"What were you going to do with that, Jennifer?" His tone is flat and unforgiving.

She dips her down further and stares intently at the floor, her shame like a lead weight on her shoulders. How can he make it so difficult to face him? Even her father had never made her cower like this. She feels as if she has done something worse than simply trying to relieve herself, she feels as though she has betrayed his trust. He hadn't expressly told her not to touch herself, but neither had he told her she could. She _knows_ that she doesn't need his permission, but not having it still feels wrong. She must apologise, she must make things right again, must make him forgive her.

"Answer me, slut."

Her lips start trembling. "I needed... Master, I'm sorry... I needed..." The slap across her face is expected, but it is given with such strength that, if she were human, her head would have been removed from her body. Instead, her vision swims and a sickness in her stomach makes her wretch onto the floor. It is red and bloody, something that should never leave the body.

"I know what you need." Damon stalks to her and takes her by the waist, the pressure on her hips only a little too hard. He glares deep into her eyes for a moment before spinning her around and pressing her chest up against the nearest wall with manacles hanging from a iron hoop pinned to the wall by big, sturdy looking bolts. "You need," He bites the words directly into her ear, "To _submit_."

She knows that what he says is true, she just had not understood before. She knows that life will be better once she relinquishes control to him. She will be safe with him calling the shots, it will be easier without the risk of making the wrong decision. _He_ knows what's best for her, it is what she has to believe, so what is she waiting for? She parts her legs and waits for him.

"Good girl." He easily slips inside her, her walls tight around him but slippery enough that he glides easily in and out of her. His hips rock forwards and back with increasing speed, at first painfully slow and then at last vampire fast. The friction of their two bodies colliding over and over feels as though it is slowly heating up the space around them.

" _Oh, God..."_ She cannot make herself be silent any longer. This kind of pleasure should be out of her reach, surely, if she is his play-thing, his _submissive_ , and nothing more.

"I said- _quiet..._ " Damon grows still, buried deep in her, listening. Somewhere above him someone is moving about, and he has a pretty good guess who it is. _Stefan_. His little brother cannot know about this game he is playing. His footsteps are coming nearer, coming to ruin _everything._

He slips wetly out of her and pushes her harshly to the ground. He is on her before she can make a sound, though, pressing his hand up against her mouth. "You are going to be _silent_. Not a peep from you, understand?" She nods and he shoves her into a dark crevice, where it is so shadowed no one would think to take a second look at it. He only hopes she keeps her mouth shut so he doesn't have to kill her and swear his brother to secrecy regarding Elena and the others. No one can know, whether he has her or not.

"Damon? What are you doing down here?" Stefan sniffs the air and wrinkles his nose at the pungent odour of lust in the air. He doesn't come any nearer, thankfully, but he doesn't leave either. Apparently the question was not rhetorical.

"I wanted to be somewhere private while I was thinking about your girlfriend," he smirked, the confident mask slipping into place easily. "Where is the lovely Elena anyway? I need more mental material, if you get what I'm saying..." He goads his brother on purpose, to make it harder for Stefan to sense that he is lying. Elena is the furthest thing from his mind.

"You're disgusting. Why don't you pick someone else to think about while you pleasure yourself, and I'll stay out of your way. This place stinks of sex, you know that?"

"Sounds like a good idea. Stay out of here; this is _my_ domain, _my_ territory. If I have to play nice with all your little humans, you can at least leave me alone down here. That goes for your girlfriend, too." He smiles coldly and flicks his eyes towards the door out of the chamber. "Go. Now."

After a few minutes, when Damon is sure Stefan won't be coming back, he brings Jennifer out of the shadows and lets her drink from his wrist, needing to feel as if the bond is maintained between them. He sets her down in front of him and gazes at her with eyes that are oddly soft. "I must keep you hidden, my sweet."


	6. Chapter 6

**Don't Love Me**

 **Chapter 6**

Jennifer feels as though she is being smothered by the blanket draped over her, but she has felt how the sun hurts her skin and doesn't argue, much. After trying to explain to Damon why this much protection is kind of ridiculous, he looked at her with such irritation that he did not need to say a word. She should not question him, about anything, ever. He takes her hand tightly in his and guides her up and out of the underground chamber. Outside the sun is immediately blinding, and she wraps the blanket around her more tightly.

"Master..." She is interrupted by the sound of voices coming from somewhere close. The voices have an echo and are difficult at first to understand. Damon's hand tightens around her even more, until it feels as though her bones are breaking, and it takes everything she has not to scream. His focus seems to be on the second story window of the mansion, but she doesn't dare look up to see what he sees.

"Quiet." Damon barely looks down at her. He gives her no warning, he takes her in his arms and hurries at vampire speed away from the mansion and out into the street. Stefan was never the smartest of men, and Damon anticipated having to make a dash for somewhere else more secret, even before seeing Elena glaring down from a second story window. Now that Damon has found another, he cannot understand what he ever saw in the brunette. She is not pleasant to him most of the time and, really, her beauty is not anything spectacular. All the years he could have been searching for _this_ one, instead. He shakes his head, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Hey, Salvatore!" A male voice bellows at him from behind him on the street. "Anything I can help you with?" There is a knowing snicker in the man's voice that he doesn't understand and sets his teeth on edge. He should have thought about this more carefully. Perhaps he should have waited until dark to move her, or taken her by car instead of practically parading her on the side-walk. He feels a certain sense of obligation to keep Jennifer from coming to any harm, a protectiveness.

"Tyler... Get out my way."

The young werewolf, instead of backing down, stands still with his shoulders squared. "No, I don't think I will."

The Boy is just _so_ stupid. Even if vampires _hadn't_ been inherently stronger and faster than werewolves, he should still be able to identify a man in love. Men in love were perhaps the most ruthless, lethal creatures (and Damon was already pretty damn good without any feelings at all). "I'm warning you, Tyler, I don't have time for your bullshit. You can either get out my way willingly, or..." Perhaps unsurprisingly, wolf-boy makes his move before Damon finishes speaking.

Tyler grabs the bundle of blankets, with Jennifer inside, and pins both to his chest. He smiles wide at the vampire, not knowing what he has but aware that it is something he can use against Damon. "Whad'ya got here, Salvatore? A present, for me?" And, slowly, he starts unwrapping.

"No!"

Tyler doesn't see Damon coming. He's on him in an instant, pushing him hard against the wall of a building, his teeth buried deep in his the muscular, tanned arm. He keeps biting and tearing until Tyler drops Jennifer and tries to get away. "What the hell, man! I just wanted a peak!" He reverts to just a child as he clutches his bleeding arm, defiant tears in his eyes. His eyes are wide with terror and his skin is a few shades paler. "You... You sh-shouldn't have done that!" As soon as he returns to his pack he will find a way to hurt Damon, hurt him bad.

Her skin begins to blister, turning light pink, to dark pink, to red; her newly developed in-human skin is at it's most sensitive to the sun's rays. In a few decades time she will be able to stand it for a bit longer, but now? Now she feels as though she is being cooked. She shrieks out in agony and tries to cover her face with her hands. Tyler stares at her, then at Damon, not at all sure whether he should be running.

Damon wraps the blanket tightly around her again, utilizing all his powers to reduce the amount of time the sun is on her. He had been anticipating this could happen, but seeing her flesh cooking is like nothing he imagined. The pain it causes him, even with his ring protecting him, feeds his anger. Tyler would have guessed, even with his little brain, that there was an unprotected vampire under the shelter.

"Go!" His face is contorted, furious, almost pure animal. Revenge is best served cold, and besides, he will not be so careless with her again. He is her master, she is his girl, and he will protect her as his property. Nobody touches his stuff, not for any reason, not ever. If he has to break all the fingers of all the males in this town he will do it, to hell with the consequences. The only thing he has to consider is her; what good is a slave if she is not there to serve him?

Tyler runs as fast as he can to the forest, where his mental communication has brought the pack. They can sense his agitation, but none question it, none would dare. There is something feral about him that they all instinctively respect and fear. They all have a tendency to get angry, but the blood pouring out his arm has made him furious, they can tell. A furious werewolf is dangerous not only to their enemies, but also to themselves. When his temper breaks the animal will not discriminate, only kill.

There is a place in the forest that only he knows, buried deep beneath the soil and it is stone dry and almost completely soundproof. Damon takes her there as soon as he's sure no-one's following him. His insides are burning with the need for retribution, but he cannot leave her so vulnerable again. What if she is taken for real? He needs her to relieve this _itch_ he has inside him, this need to dominate. He cannot satisfy himself, he _needs_ her like he's never needed anybody before.

Jennifer stumbles into the darkened space, clumsy even with the enhanced night vision, and walks straight into a wall. "Ah!" Her hands snap up to her face, only to find _his_ there already. He holds her nose in place as it a strange, warm, tingling sensation spreads over her face. "What are you doing!?"

He shushes and holds her face for a few more moments before slipping his hands down to her wrists. He brings her arms up above her head and holds both her wrists in just one of his large, manly hands. "You've got such a pretty face. It would be a shame to lose it." His other hand slaps her lightly across the face before taking a handful of her breast and squeezing. "You might lose it if you aren't careful, if you don't do as your told..."

But she's done nothing wrong! Why is he punishing her if she has done nothing wrong? She did not invite the stranger to remove the blanket, she hadn't meant to bring attention to herself! What has she done to anger him? How can she make him forgive her for it?

"Wear this," something soft and velvety is put into her hands and she knows what it is. It's so soft that she just wants to rub her thumb over its surface, but she brings it up and ties it over her eyes.

Without warning she is pushed to the ground, presumably at his feet, and she catches herself before falling face first onto the floor. She's on her knees when she hears the scraping of chair legs, stopping just inches away from her face. There is the sound of a zipper and when he is sat before her she knows that it is without any pants.

"Open your mouth. Come closer. Closer." Each word is a command, bitten out, and his orders fill her with pleasure. She does has he says and feels him within moments. "Good," he tells her, his tone strained. He shifts and his manhood seems to grow even bigger inside her mouth. He rocks his hips forward and back when she remains still, trying to get some friction.

With a shriek Jennifer pulls herself away from him and scuttles away crab-like on the floor. He hand is at her mouth and blood, her blood, is escaping through her fingers. She's screaming with the pain, and the horror of feeling each of her teeth being forced out of her gums. She leans forwards and spits blood and teeth onto the floor, retching bloody vomit all the while.

He's slow to react with his member still throbbing, and he watches her struggle in stunned silence. This vampire is not a normal vampire, not something he has ever known before. He wonders, who is her sired her and will he be coming to find her?

"Here's the plan. We go in and snatch the girl, and if Damon put up a fight? We kill him." Tyler glanced around at the circle of muscular men, each on of them breathing hard and ready to fight. It didn't take much to get his pack members interested, they were all eager for a fight, and for that reason it was imperative that he maintain control of their blood lust. He knows that if anything happened the trouble would land on _his_ shoulders as their leader.

A/N: Sorry for any typos


	7. Chapter 7

**Don't Love Me**

 **Chapter 7**

 _Oh God what is happening to me?_

Every second is accompanied by the need to wretch vile, bloody stuff onto the floor. If it was vomit she would be embarrassed, but she could handle it; this isn't just vomit, this is her blood, and what feels like her teeth. She cannot be sure, she cannot see, but her tongue only feels empty space. It takes many agonizing minutes for the pain to become manageable, something she can see through, and by this time Damon has moved from his position. He has disappeared, she looks around and he is nowhere to be seen.

Damon is standing in the shadows, facing the dark like an adversary. The smell of old, rotted, evil death is unmistakeable, and he cannot help berating himself. He should have somehow sensed that someone watches, this power he can sense should be like a beacon to him, but too many things were already on his mind. His deflated penis lays limply against his thigh and he delicately sets it back in his trousers, only a little disappointed. There will be other times, other places, when he can have her.

-#-

But the Pack alone does not have the strength to teach Damon a lesson, much to Tyler's chagrin. A normal young vampire would be no problem to take down, especially with his pack, but Damon is no normal vampire. He might not be ancient, but he is strong, stronger than anything Tyler has ever seen before. They need something stronger than a vampire over a hundred years old on their side. He has told his pack that he knows of a creature so strong to be nearly unbeatable, but he doesn't know if he should unleash it. It might be too dangerous, to all of them.

But, how can he allow Damon to build a vampire army, one that will undoubtedly outmatch his pack of werewolves? He cannot. How many more men and women of Mystic Falls will be recruited by the vampire, what is his end-game? The little vamp is probably not the first to be turned, and won't be the last. He has to do something, even if it is reckless.

Tyler takes it from the shelf and drops the heavy volume onto a varnished wooden table of the library. His family's book collection is vast, and it contains more than just the average titles. Two years before he had found a bunch of books containing a strange language, with stranger illustrations, and had completely disregarded it as obscure ramblings. Now he wonders if, if his family is supernatural, he should try to unlock the book's secrets.

The front cover creaks open ominously, shedding a thick layer of dust onto the table, and from the table into the air. This book is so damn old it should belong in a museum, not in a seldom used family library, but he is glad that he has use of it now. His eyes scan the first pages until he finds what he needs. If this works he won't have to dirty his hands much. The words are in ancient Latin, and he uses his knowledge of his high-school Spanish to understand how to pronounce the words.

"Fortitudo tenebrarum," for a heart stopping moment he's stumbling over his words, but after the first couple they seem to be compelled out of his mouth "praeesset nocti, Voca me nunc, come pro viribus..."

 _(([Google translate into Latin from]_

 _strength of darkness,_

 _ruler of the night,_

 _assist me now,_

 _come with all your might))_

Niklaus moves through the trees of the forest with a grace that is undeniably inhuman, barely touching the ground at all. He does not want to disturb the ground too much as he is following a scent, _her_ sent. His creation, his slave, has run from him and he is absolutely set on finding her. It's not just that she is his property, and that sex with her has been more than satisfying, it is the nerve of her trying to escape him at all that makes him track her down. She shouldn't be able to be so insolent.

At a blackened tree Klaus stops suddenly, his momentum making him stumble a bit. Something, like a phantom fist in his chest, clutches at his heart. He raises his head and sniffs the air, scenting magic. His eyes narrow. Who dares to summon him, an Original, as if he is no better than a servant? He has felt this feeling before, many, many years ago, but he cannot help the trepidation that this time it might mean more. Unwillingly, he takes a left into a clearing.

Tyler looks around him as if expecting to see someone else. He suddenly wishes that he had not insisted that he do the summoning alone, and that he hadn't thought inviting the dark forces into his home was a good idea. It was not, _is_ not, and he knew that. His gaze went out the window and with his heart in his throat he steps forwards closer to the window. In the distance he can see a figure watching his house from the edge of the woods, and he has a terrible feeling in his gut.

Suddenly, his cell phone vibrates in his pocket and he answers it without thinking. "Hello?"

"Hello Tyler." The voice is flat and dark, hinting at anger and cruelty. "I have a job for you."

He has to gulp down the saliva, he is so terrified. He recognizes the voice, and knows that if there is anyone that can control him it is the oldest vampire he has ever known of. Was it the spell that brought him here, or just chance? He doesn't believe much in chance.

"I need you to find a girl, Jennifer Hail, and tell me where she is."

Tyler's memory flashes back to Damon and the vampire chick beneath the blankets. Could she be the same leech that his master spoke about? Should he offer her up to be slaughtered? Deep inside he feels a twinge of remorse for what he is about to do, but it is buried deep beneath his anger. The girl should not have hidden, but he would hide if he had the option to. He has no choice.

"I think I know who she is already, I can lead you to her, she's with Damon Salvatore. I remember her scent and I _know_ his." He taps his nose, grins, then frowns. "Just don't make me do anything violent... Please..." The call ends, leaving Tyler standing with the phone pressed against his ear, stunned and afraid for his own safety.

-#-

With a suddenness that makes her jump she feels a hand clasp down hard on her shoulder, hard enough to make her whole body ache. Her neck muscles tense. "Leave me alone, just don't touch me!" The words should be slurred, lisping, but all her teeth seem accounted for. She shouldn't sound so normal, not with the little pearly bits of bone on the blood soaked ground before her, but it feels as if they are not hers. She knows that they must be, despite this. She cannot look at him over her shoulder-she is frozen.

" _My Pet,_ " A light, cultured voice that she has never heard before says serenely, pronouncing _pet_ as if it is her name, something she should respond to. She cannot recall ever hearing that voice before, but it feels familiar to her. " _Why do you run from me?_ "

"Get away from her!" Damon roar reverberated through the forest, causing birds to fly and hares to bury deep underground. He steps out of the shadow and snarls venomously at the creature who dares touching something that is his. He has only just found his toy and does not want to share, not yet, not ever.

He recognises the creature immediately. The fact that Klaus is an Original, and impossible to destroy, means nothing to him from the moment he dared to touch Jennifer. Somehow, from somewhere, he will find the power to take him on himself, without any help from a witch.

"When the wolf told me that _you_ had my darling princess I almost disregarded the possibility entirely." Klaus's fair skin, fair eyes, and pale lips contrasts heavily with the darkness is his eyes. His smile is cruel and his hand on Jennifer's shoulder will leave a mark. He tells himself that he is _done_ being a gentleman, and that _she_ deserves to be treated with no more kindness. "But it seems that for once he has been a good servant."

"Who is the wolf?" Damon already has a pretty good idea, but has to ask anyway.

"Tyler Lockwood," one corner of his mouth lifts in a sneer.

TBC

A/N: Klaus might be more kinky than Damon. What do you think of the chapter?


	8. Chapter 8

**Don't Love Me**

 **Chapter 8**

Jennifer winces as much as she is able, at the sound of Damon bellowing for her, but she cannot do _anything_ when Klaus grips her so tightly she knows that sooner or later she is going to break; He's crushing her. She's never travelled so fast, even in a car, and his speed makes her more frightened, if that is even possible. The forest is a blur around her and she closes her eyes even tighter than they were before, actively forcing them to remain closed. When he stops moving, she can feel it. One eye opens reluctantly.

"You shouldn't have run from me, love. It was very _bad_ ," with the word 'bad' he slapped her hard on her ass, "it was very _naughty_..." he strikes her again and the ache spreading through her body, seeming to fill her like liquid, reaching every corner of her being. "I want you to appreciate the mistake you have made..."

A sob breaks out, making her cringe because she knows that he prefers her to be silent, as silent as the dead. When she found freedom she never wanted to be his prisoner again, and yet here she is, at his mercy. Now he won't only be cruel with her, but ruthless too. When she escaped him she had known her freedom might be short-lived, and his vengeance, if he ever caught her, would be long and terrible.

His hand lifts in the air, as he is going to hit her again, but the blow never comes. She waits and she waits, but nothing. What is he waiting for, for her to react? She turns her head to look up at him, not realising her mistake. _"Don't move, 'less I give you permission,_ " he hisses the words, his fury at being defied _yet again_ evident. He will no longer simply wait for her to become compliant, that was his mistake before she ran away, he will force her to submit. There will be no choice, not any more, not for her anyway.

Klaus suddenly lets her tumble out from under his arm, but she lands safely on something soft. Her nose hurts a little from it's collision with the soft mattress, but the discomfort is nothing compared to what it could be, if he dropped her instead onto hard floor. She almost shifts to a more comfortable position, but she can feel something sharp piercing into her back. "I said," his voice is cool, authoritative, inhuman, " _Don't move._ " His hands, colder even than his voice, grip her hips tightly. He slowly strips her of the little she has of modesty, running his hands over bare flesh and claiming it as his, again.

She settles back into place with her face pressed down, trembling, knowing that if anything she has made him more heartless by trying to find freedom. If she hadn't run, remained his prisoner, she might be dead, but dead might be better than what is to come. Perhaps if she had stayed with him he would have been kind enough to take her slowly. What a fool she has been to ever think she could be rid of her master, her maker.

 _What is that smell?_ She wants to ask the question but knows she cannot. He hasn't given her permission to speak and she doesn't want him to strike her again. The smell is sweet, a delicious smell, but perhaps too oily for consumption. And whatever it is, it smells so good and she can tell that it is red hot, maybe ninety degrees. She can feel its heat close to her skin and her back muscles stiffen. _What is it?_

She feels it slowly being spread over skin; it starts by being rubbed into the bottom of her legs, her thighs, her ass, between her legs, then in a line from hip-bone to hip-bone and up her spine. He doesn't stop spreading the oil until it covers her neck, her hair brushed over her head and out the way. She feels smothered, and yet she is still very, _very_ , aware of what he is doing. He stops painting her skin and, for a moment at least, steps away from her.

"We have never done this before," he tells her softly, referring to the time before her escape from him. He does not say anything more, although it feels like he should, should at least warn her. "Remember, do not make a sound..." He sounds as if he is concentrating.

Pain, red hot, scolding pain spreads up from her centre. She cannot make sense of it, not at first and not after a few seconds, because she cannot think. All her thoughts are centred on the agony, there is no escape from it. Her lips clamp tightly shut, more firmly than ever before, trying to hold back the scream. The torture comes in waves, drawing in then drawing out, building momentum with every stroke. She feels as if she is drowning, with the pain being the sky and the pleasure being the sea. She doesn't want to drown, but Klaus is pulling her under.

"Stop... St-stop... Stop. St-ss-stop... please..." She's panting with the effort of saying so many words all at once. It's as if he is milking her of all her strength, everything she has. This is the way it had been before she left. It is a nightmare come true; every time he took her he would bring her to the brink of falling into orgasm, then pull her back into pain. He would torture her this way for hours, long after she stopped screaming and was hoarse, and would not let her recover until she was unconscious. Sometimes the darkness would save her quickly, within a hour, and other times it alluded her until her mind simply shut down after being tortured for days on end.

He growls and ploughs into her faster, harder, causing her body to rub against the sheets. His chest presses against her back, his pelvis still in position and he pulls on her hair, causing her even more pain. He whispers close to her ear, "You will not cum until you have my permission." He runs his finger along the wetness on her back and brings it to her mouth, allowing the heady aroma of blood to darken her eyes. "Something I created," he covers her lips with a thick coat of the stuff, silent, "A blood and oil lubricant."

 _That is why it smells so good._

She feels his tongue lick her neck, then fangs enter her skin. Her eyesight begins to swim, but she has to stay in control of her body. He has commanded her not to give into the beast clawing to escape the confines of her body, but it is so hard. She whines but he does not pause for even a second, drawing out huge quantities of her blood and zapping her strength even further. How can he expect her to hold back the orgasm?

"Not until I give you permission," He reminds her breathlessly, as if sensing her rising need. He pulls out of her with a suddenness that causes her to cry out, tears pouring down her cheeks.

The pain he is causing her by denying her any release is too much, _too much_. She can feel it inside her, eating away, killing her. When will he allow her to cum? She needs him to instruct her.

"I will leave you for a time," he tells her, his breath suddenly hot against her private parts, "and in that time you are not to move, scream, or pleasure yourself. You will not touch any part of your body, you will not itch any itches. I will know if, at any time, you disobey me and you _will_ be punished..." He takes her face and turns it to face him. He kisses her long and hard. "I love you, Jennifer."

TBC

A/N: Had to do a little _research_ for this one. Was it good? Review please :-)


	9. Chapter 9

Don't Love Me

Chapter 9

Damon straightens from where he was knelt on the ground, brushing dirt and leaves from his jeans fastidiously. Pounding his frustrated anger into the dirt has done little to dampen the rage and panic, and it hasn't made him feel any better.

Instead of drowning in self pity, as his brother would be want to do, he needs to be proactive and ruthless. It's the only way he will get Jennifer back, safe, with him, and it happens to be something he is good at. It is lucky that Elena could never tame him, like she did Stefan, so there is nothing to hold him back from doing what he must.

His head lifts into the air and he sniffs. Too much time has passed; he can no longer catch Jennifer's scent, or Klaus's. He would recognise the bastard's stench anywhere, no matter how weak he felt, but there is nothing left for him to follow. It is as if a storm has come and gone while he lay unconscious, even if the forest floor is as dry as if rain hasn't fallen for months, stripping his surroundings of any trace of a scent to follow. Dammit, what else can lead him to where he wants? He thinks and he thinks, then it comes to him.

Tyler. Tyler, the good-for-nothing, might actually be of some use. He only has to find him, threaten him if necessary, beat him if he asks for it, and he will know where to start his search. He has to think logically and not let his emotions make him foolish; another thing Elena, Katherine, and the rest of his mistakes, taught him. He smiles briefly at the silver-lining.

Jennifer is perhaps the first and only right one in his long life, but not finding her, saving her, would most surely be the biggest mistake of all. He has to be careful in his treatment of the wolf; he could be the key to claiming what is, and always will be, his.

-#-

Jennifer knows that she has to keep her mind busy, to ignore the agony burning at her centre and in her neck, but she feels that there is nothing in this shadowy room that she has not studied from this disadvantaged angle, on her front. Besides the bed that she lays upon there is a dark-wood end table, the only thing on it an unlit candle. The wall that she can see is papered with a delicate pattern, not unlike those she has seen in medieval history books, but she cannot ponder it forever. She turns inwards, into her mind.

Will he really know if she touches herself, just once? Will he be able to sense it when he comes back into the room? The answer comes quickly, from a place inside she hasn't known existed until now. It is as if something ancient is inside of her, something dark and menacing, yet pure and powerful. Yes, the stranger's voice inside her head answers, he has that ability. He is of the Original Family.

Are all vampires born with an inner voice? She asks the question but receives no answer, not this time. Or is it something special, gifted to only a select few?

An age seems to pass before she hears the voice again, and this time the serene cadence is gone, and is replaced by an agitation that in turn makes Jennifer nervous. He's coming.

Footsteps from beyond the door to the bedroom. Slow, deliberate, menacing movement. He's approaching slowly just to make her nervous, she knows that, but it's working. She feels terrified, frozen, and confused. The nervousness is almost like excitement, almost pleasurable, but sickening. She feels as though she is going to throw up any moment from the anticipation of him coming through that door. She fears that he is going to hurt her again, and the phantom memory of him forcing his way inside makes her even weaker.

Don't fight him, the voice warns her. Don't fight him, it will only make it worse.

Klaus opens the heavy oak door to see that his pet has done as he said. His mind reaches out to hers and he senses the agony roiling within her. Good, she's learning, she's accepting that to her, you are her god. "I can feel your distress," he tells her almost happily, though his tone is grave, "I am pleased." He mounts the bed slowly, his weight dipping the mattress a good few centimetres; then his hand smooths up her bare back to her neck, where he forces her head to the side so that her cheek rests against the pillow and not her full face. "You're such," he bends his face down to hers and takes her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it tenderly, "a good girl..."

He knows what you are feeling, the voice warns her, what you are thinking. You will never escape.

-#-

Damon found Tyler in the centre of town, surrounded by a gaggle of girls who notice him immediately. Wolf-boy frowns as the girls turn away from him gawk at the new arrival, his jaw set and his hands flexing. "What is it, Salvatore? Girl problems?" His voice is full of desperate bravado, false confidence. He has no idea what can be the reason for this intrusion, but he doesn't really want to find out, either.

"I need your help." Damon's words are as tense as Tyler's with pent-up violence, the only difference being that he is the only man in danger of losing his girl. He watches as a cocky smile bloom on Tyler's face and has to make a concious effort not to smack the boy upside the head. "It's urgent."

"Why should I-"

Damon's hand is at Tyler's throat in an instant, his vampiric speed faster than any 'wolf's reaction time, "You will do this for me, wolf..." He hisses, the dark veins beneath his eyes beginning to throb as the thirst for violence rises. He ignores the gasps and squeals of the girls around them, not caring one bit whether they remember this or not. He doubts they are anything supernatural, or even sober. Who on earth would want to hang around with a werewolf and not be drunk out of their minds?

Tyler's eyes dart around him. "Cool it, man. Humans, remember?" He struggles to be released and succeeds. He shakes himself and smooths the wrinkles out of his t-shirt and straightens to his full height, well above Damon's. He checks around him again to see if anyone might have heard his reference to humans. His groupies are gone, where to he doesn't know, but supposes anywhere would be better than here. He would run if he had the chance, will as soon as Damon lets him go.

"Wh-Wha-What do you want?" Damn that quaver in his voice.

"I need to find the original, Klaus, now. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

His eyes widen. How the hell did the blood-sucker find out about Klaus being in town? Does he know about his betrayal of Jennifer Hail? His tone is very knowing, as if the secret is not really a secret any more. How the hell has he found out? His head shakes mutely, in denial of the truth.

"I know you're lying," Damon's mouth is curved but there is no humour in his eyes. "I hope you know that I won't hesitate to rip your throat out before you have the chance to run away, or try to."

He knows I know where he is. He knows I know everything. "I can tell you where I think he is, you just have to promise not to kill me!"

Damon strikes him hard with the back of his hand, his breathing rough with fury. "You will tell me everything, and there will be no such promise."

"He'll kill me!" Tyler's bruised eyes started to wrinkle in the corners, as if he is about to cry.

"I'll kill you." Damon hisses, baring his teeth menacingly. His strong finger nails dig into the soft flesh of his throat, drawing blood. "Where is she!?" He realises Tyler heard his slip-up when his eyes widen a bit, for a brief second before narrowing.

"He has a girl with him, I saw that. I think... I think he took her to the big stone house he has... I think, I'm pretty sure, just please, just don't kill me!"

-#-

Klaus is interrupted, mid-thrust, by the voice inside his head. He knows this voice as if is his own, but he knows it is not. It is the voice of the Demon, of the being that has occupied his body since the moment his mother cast the spell to turn him, and his siblings, into what he is now. In order to make them immortal, Esther invoked the essence of Demon into their bodies, and since the moment they changed an entity spoke in their minds in times of peril. You have been betrayed. He feels his body fill with tension and his hips move more forcefully, driving himself further and further into Jennifer.

Jennifer screams for the first time in hours. He's breaking her insides faster than they can heal.

 _Review please :-)_


	10. Chapter 10

Don't Love Me

Chapter 10

"Beg me to stop," Klaus tells her, smiling at her weakness. His body rams into hers so forcefully that she slides across the bed. He might have allowed her to heal from his abuse, but the idea of disloyalty from any of his servants has killed any mercy he would have had. Now he wants someone to suffer for the deception, and until he finds out who the betrayer is he can only take his anger out on her. He has her by the hair, pulling her head back and exposing her lily-white neck. "Do it now..." His pointed teeth slowly graze her skin just above the artery, almost puncturing the skin.

"Stop, stop now. Please..." her legs ache from being forced apart for so long and her pelvis feels as if it is cracked. Her insides throb with a kind of pleasure pain, a kind of stinging satisfaction. She doesn't want to, but she knows her body would welcome him back. "Please..."

"Louder." He holds her hips in place and angles himself so that he penetrates her at just the right spot, manipulating her into becoming more and more aroused. He watches with narrowed eyes as she shakes her head and presses her lips together in denial. He withdraws from her with a suddenness that makes her scream out.

"Please!" This time her scream is so loud that it momentarily deafens him. "Please! Please! I Beg you, Please!"

-#-

Damon has to travel much slower than he wants in order for Tyler to lead him to Klaus, and it's enough for him to get twitchy. "Can't you move any faster, dog?"

Tyler turns back on him with his eyes turned intense. He had to consciously breathe in an out a few times to get his mounting anger under control. Perhaps Damon doesn't appreciate the sensitivity of a werewolf's nose, and that scent trails are absolutely everywhere, and following just one is almost as difficult as finding a needle in a haystack? "It's around here somewhere, just give me a minute."

-#-

"I don't think you deserve a rest." His voice is hard, authoritative, sadistic. He slaps her hard around the face, hard enough that he here's her neck fracture. He watches her head fall limply forward, but he soon takes her chin supports her head. "I've just broken your neck. It's painful but it won't kill you. I'll hold your head like this," his thumb of his left hand cups her head under her chin, "until your spine grows strong again." His right hand is tugging and stroking his penis, quicker and quicker, and his eyes are growing more and more distant as the orgasm approaches.

For a few precious moments all is dark, all is gentle, and nothing hurts an more. It's the most peace she has known in a long time, maybe ever, and she wishes she could remain in this state and not return to reality.

And then, what feels like far too soon, everything comes back; the pain, the terrible torture of before, his rough hands, and his face so beautiful and yet so monstrous. He's smiling down at her and, before she can anticipate it, he presses his lips tenderly down on hers. His lips seem to fit perfectly against her own, so soft, so perfect, as if they were made to fit with hers. His tongue, when it probes her, does not feel so much like an intruder, and his mouth tastes like her favourite dessert. Her mouth moves with his without any thought, but when she finally can think she pulls away. There is a smacking sound accompanying her withdrawal, and it is this sound which breaks the spell.

"That was quick..." Klaus murmurs, his eyes hooded and darker with thought. Even he couldn't have healed so quickly from a broken neck, and hers _had_ broken, he'd heard it snap. He looks at her closely, closer and closer. His nose stopped an inch above her skin, he breathed her scent in. That has changed too. "You're different." He meant to only think it, but said it anyway. He can see in her eyes that she has heard him and has the words dissected in her mind, trying to discover their meaning. He doesn't want her getting any ideas; he has to stop her from thinking...

 _You have been betrayed. Death is coming._

Klaus's thrown her into the farthest wall and she feels the surface crack beneath her. Her head feels as though it's cracked, blood runs down her forehead, but she won't fall unconscious. She want to, she wants to escape this pain, but her vision is still crystal clear. _Run_ , the voice inside her instructs, insistent with pin-pricks of pain on her forehead, _Run while you still can. Save yourself. Save us._

"Fucking spineless wolf," He growls, at the image of Tyler in his memory, his posture hunched as his fists clench tightly. His mouth opens wide with his roar of fury and all his sharp, pointed teeth glisten unnaturally. "We need to go. Get up and get out." He watches her for any sign of movement, or any sign of comprehension, and can sense her conciousness. She is still and silent, and would be dead if she was not sired by him. Because _his_ blood is coursing through her veins he feels confident that in time she will wake, but not soon enough. It may be only a matter of minutes until trouble bursts in, and trouble is something that he can do without. After living as long as he has, he no patience for trouble-makers.

He collects her from the ground, feeling all the torn skin and broken bones, and throws her over his shoulder and approaches the window with his fist raised as if to knock. Instead, he smashes the glass into a million tiny little pieces, some refracting back at him and landing in Jennifer's hair like crystals of ice. He checks her face and finds it unmarked, apart from a little blood from healed wounds. If he had hurt her face it would be unfortunate, nothing more. If the rest of her body had been damaged then maybe he would care. The first time he saw her he knew that she was his, would be his, and so he took her that night. It had been outside a bar, it had been snowing, she had been shivering. He can remember it perfectly. He looks down at the gravel driveway below and jumps.

He lands gracefully, taking the impact easily. Jennifer hardly feels the soft impact with the ground, it's easy to keep silent and still, and it is unbelievable that such a vile monster can hold her so closely, so carefully. Pretending to be unconscious seems to be the best decision she could have made, considering his gentleness with her prone and helpless body. It is as if, with her silent and dumb, he is gentle with her. She wonders how long she can keep this charade up.

" _It's around here somewhere, I swear. Why would I lie?"_

Jennifer feels the arms around her tighten and she wonders what has made Klaus grow still again, and why his anger is rising. She can feel his emotions as if they are her own, although her own are pushed to the background right at this moment. A rumble, as if of thunder, comes from close above her and she realises that it is him growling. She's never heard anything so primeval in all her life, and she has to wonder just how _wild_ Klaus might be, and whether he was more than just an animal in bed.

" _I swear, Tyler, if we end up being too late I will skin you alive..."_

" _Tyler..._ " that one word is forced out past his suddenly thin, livid lips.

" _Where do you think you're going?"_

Can Klaus hear the voices too?

Klaus's feeling of rage sends power prickling across her skin. It's as if he's sending power out into the forest surrounding the building, probing for something, or for someone.

-#-

A big bead of sweat rolled down Tyler's forehead and he turns away from Damon as much as he can. Damon's fist is clutching at his shirt, close to his neck, and it restricts his movement. His chest constricts painfully and he gasps for breath. Damon can feel the power too, as it rolls between trees and over streams, and he knows without reason that it is specifically hunting for them. It is as if the power has a mind of its own, or at least enough intelligence to want to seek them out. It only took a fraction of a moment to guess from what, or whom, the power originated.

"Klaus..." His eyes narrow and his gaze fixes upon the almost undetectable shimmer of magic trailing deeper into the woods.

"Klaus?" His voice is panicked. The werewolf has no desire to go anywhere near a being who has the power to control him as if he were no better than a domesticated dog. He stops moving forwards and stands still, his gut clenching. "I can't-"

Damon holds a finger to his lips and treads carefully towards the darkest part of the thick, curtain almost, of trees. Something pulls him towards it, like compulsion only purer, and he isn't about to fight the feeling. Never mind his words, he can hear Tyler's footsteps, which means his enemy can too.


	11. Chapter 11

Don't Love Me

Chapter 11

Klaus snarls something close to her ear, his cool breath at odds with the fiery intensity of his passion, his intensity. She cannot decide whether it is safe to open her eyes, or dangerous. If only she knew the words he's saying to her, then she could anticipate his next move.

He's holding her so tightly that her bones creak beneath her skin, near breaking point. If he desires her to do anything he has to release her, because she is utterly helpless like this, while in his clutches. The fury is red hot and feeds his strength. His arms wrap tightly around her chest, tighter than titanium.

Jennifer realises the folly now, in running away from Klaus and thinking, even for one moment, that she had a chance to be free of him. All this could have been avoided, if only she stopped to think about the consequences if she were ever caught, _this_ consequence. She wonders; if I had just behaved how he wants me to, would he have grown to trust me enough to let his guard down?

Now he will be sure to watch her closely, to read her body language for any sign of defiance, too closely for there to be any hope of escape, or rescue. She won't be able to make contact with anyone from the outside; her captor won't allow her the mental capacity to plan anything so elaborate.

"I've been patient with you, Jennifer," Klaus whispers hotly, deep into her soft flesh-the aching mounds of her breasts, the smooth flatness of her stomach, and lower until his breath caresses the cloying dampness of her sex. He pauses in the torture to look up at her with a devilish smile. "I've waited for you. Your lack of _willingness_ has become tiresome..." He buries his head between her legs, touching his tongue to the patch of bare skin at her centre. He pauses, letting the anticipation build...

Suddenly, there is a loud crash from inside one of the rooms downstairs and the whole building seems to shudder. Both figures on the bed freeze, and all is silent apart from the growl growing from within Klaus's chest. He sounds ferocious, and spittle escapes his mouth as he tilts his head, listening. " _Damon..._ " Just one word, but in it there a dozen threats and promises.

 _Damon?_ The name is one she knows, one she fears, and one she feels slightly relieved in hearing. Damon, the vampire who abused her the first chance he had, might be her saviour this day. He would end her suffering, she felt sure, one way or the other. Maybe he will kill her, she thinks without as much trepidation as she ought to feel, and end this half existence that she has lived since the moment she awakened as one of the undead.

Klaus glares down at her as he stands beside the bed, buck naked and brilliant. His eyes then narrow into slits as he sniffs the air. "You're excited. Why? Who is he to you?"

How to explain? It had all happened so quickly that her memory of meeting the dark stranger is confused in her brain, but even if her memory of the incident were crystal clear, she thinks that maybe she should just stay quiet. She doesn't know why she is 'excited' as she cannot remember, but neither can she deny the feeling of hope fluttering in her chest. Salvation could be close, close enough to touch, close enough to taste.

-#-

Damon straightens from the roll to the ground and brushes bits of glass of his shirt. If he owned this place he would invest in decent windows, ones that would hold against an unwelcome intruder into the house, or at least iron spikes to put on the floor beside it. This house has none of these things, which was a plus for him. The room is empty, dusty, and cold with no sense of the life he sensed from outside.

He ventures further into the house, always keeping his preternatural senses open for any hint of an oncoming attack. He enters the kitchen, such as it is, and grabs a blood bag from the small fridge, drinking it down quickly.

A/N: sorry that this is so short, I just wanted yo get something posted. Damon's coming to save her though!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated as regularly as I should. I have short-term memory-problems and I keep forgetting where I am in the story, when I remember this story at all, and it's why my chapters are short. I get side-tracked pretty darn easily lol :-)

Don't Love Me

12

If there had been any chance of surprising the Original, it is surely gone now, so why bother being subtle at all? He doesn't try to tread carefully, he stomps as much as he wants. Klaus must know he's here. Damon punches holes into the pristine white plaster of the walls, making his fist ache slightly, but his anger still scratches at his insides to get out. He glories in his fury, in this darkness-it is, and always has been, the thing which feeds his confidence. No matter what, he will succeed in his mission, he will save Jennifer from the monster who will almost certainly only want to hurt her.

Of course he doesn't really have any idea what he will find, what's waiting for him in this house, deep in the woods and hidden from most people. Will he find her alive? He doesn't want to think that he might find her dead, or hurt, or something worse, but to hope that she hasn't been hurt at all is asking too much. She isn't human, and thus not as easy to kill as a human of her size, but Damon is all too aware that vampires can die, too. Nothing is truly immortal, not even an Original, not even Klaus. It gives him comfort, that thought.

"Damon..." the taunting voice comes from somewhere in the house, above him maybe, on the second floor. "I just _knew_ that you would come..." A harsh smacking sound pierced the air, and struck him hard. He knows the sound of flesh meeting flesh, of a blow being dealt out. While he hopes that Klaus hasn't brought another to play in his games, he hopes beyond reason that Jennifer hasn't been harmed. It is a foolish, ignorant desire, but one that he holds anyway. He hears the sound of _her_ talking quietly and pleads with her silently to stay quiet, just until he has her safe and away from this place.

Silently, he pleads with Jennifer just to hold out for a little longer. _Do not provoke him, honey, he has the power to do terrible things to you..._

"I just _knew_ he would come..." Her eyes are lit up with hope, she can feel the glow coming as if from that magic which made her more than human. She knew he would come and rescue her, she never lost hope, she prayed and it seems as if her god has at last heard her. It takes her, what feels to be a long time, to notice the fist drawn back but the pain from the blow comes instantaneously. She's forced onto her stomach on the bed, with her arms held tightly at her back and her nude backside unprotected and vulnerable.

Klaus takes her arm, using both his hands, and breaks the bone above her elbow, as efficiently as he would break kindling for a fire. The loud cracking of her bone seems to echo in the room like drum sticks being hit against one another, hard. Pain clouds her vision and from inside she hears the sound of growling.

The parasitic demon, forced into her by the mingling of Klaus's pure-vampire blood and hers, is snarling savagely at the pain she is suffering. She can feel the power climbing up her throat, trying to push past what is left of her humanity, her self control. Somehow Jennifer knows that once allowed out, the demon will never want back in, and that is something she cannot allow. _I can make you stronger_ , the demon coaxes, _strong enough to defeat him... and save the other..._ Strength is what she needs, but it is not worth the price of her soul. She needs her soul, like she needs air to breathe, and there is nothing that could possibly make her give it up... Nothing...

The invasion is swift and ruthless, entering her body like a militant force. Her body wants to arch up with the sudden pain, but his tremendous length inside her holds her spine rigidly. Every time she moves there is a stab of pain in her stomach. All thoughts of Damon, of the rescue, are forced out of her mind as Klaus buries himself deep and clamps a hand over her mouth so tightly it muffles all her sounds.

He rocks his hips back forth upon her tenderly, almost lovingly, oh so slowly. He pays attention to the way her body reacts to his, taking note of how her walls _squeeze_ him gladly, despite how her mind revolts at the thought of him. He knows that he is making it good for her and he knows that, sooner or later, she will have to let him love her. Eventually she will beg for this, and maybe when she begs him he will deny her. It would be the start of the torture, the punishment she will finally learn from. She is his, and will be his _forever._

Damon doesn't climb the stairs to the second floor. He jumps, catapulting himself straight up, to land on the second story landing. All is still, all is silent. There are many doors, more than he expected from the outside, and there is nothing to tell him which to go into. "I'm coming for you..."

His gentle thrusts turn rampant and now she cannot help but scream. His growl of frustration barely registers, but he reaches down over her back, squeezes her neck, and it is threat enough. Whether it is possible, now, for her to be permanently harmed by choking she doesn't know, but he squeezes so tightly that she doesn't want to find out. She has never had a very high pain threshold.

Damon stops and turns around on the spot. The room he has just looked into is empty of anything living, or undead, and has been for a number of years. He doesn't shut the door, he just steps away from it to look back the way he's come. He counted the doors- six. Had he looked into six rooms, or five. He cannot remember if he skipped one, or not, or why. _It was as if he had already been sure she wasn't in there, for no reason._ This makes him stop short.

He approaches the room warily and grasps the door knob, twisting it, almost sure at what he will find.

She feels him grow still inside her and it gives her a chance to catch her breath. Her throat his sore, even though most of her cries were silent and breathy, but it is nothing compared to her other hurts. She can feel his liquids from her aching anus and her own running down her legs but she cannot move an inch. Her body is tight with agony and she knows she cannot take him again. He will kill her next time, of that she is sure, her body simply cannot take his torment again without breaking.

Damon pushes the door open and is met by a sight that brings both horror and shame to his soul. How anyone could put someone else through such torture he cannot fathom, could not imagine even when he is at his most dark and unrelenting. Would he have ripped at her like this, back when he first found her? His pain at realising how close he had gotten, in the beginning, to this abomination fills him with a kind of sadness he has only had smalls tastes of before. He had _abused_ her, taken her against her will, just like the cruel and evil Klaus. He isn't cruel, he isn't evil, he's not a monster, but he _is_ more than capable of acting like one.

"Damon, you're-" Her voice, so frail and soft, is stopped by the heavy blow to the back of her head. Klaus grabs her hair next and tugs it roughly, though not harshly enough to strip them from her skull. He wants her pretty, after all. He slips out of her and she feels her legs fold beneath her, taking her down to the floor where she doesn't have the energy to even lift her head up.

"Jennifer!" Damon steps from the door, closing the space between them in a nanosecond, and kneels down to see her properly. He touches her face gently and feels more than sees her flinch away from his touch. She is so broken. What will take to heal her wounds? He is sure that there are even some he cannot see. When has she last drunk blood? Has he fed her at all?

Klaus hauls her back to him and out of Damon's reach. "Do not touch her. You have no right to touch what is mine." His eyes do not leave his captive, but Damon feels all the force of his words. "You will not touch her."

Jennifer watches with a horrible, gut-clenching, frozen feeling as her would-be saviour backs down from the fight. She feels a tingling sensation dancing along her naked body, and it makes her shiver. Power, she is sure that is power filling the room, and it is directed all at Damon. She can see in his face the struggle he is fighting and knows that he cannot win on his own. "No!" she shouts, feeling her own eyes burning into Damon, trying to fight the compulsion that would soon control him if she does nothing.

With a shout, Klaus roughly forces her to the floor, his naked body suddenly as firm as stone. He puts his bare foot down on her back and leans forwards to press her into the ground. "Shut the fuck up, whore." His words, each one, are like slap to her face. She feels her cheeks stinging from the verbal blows. He doesn't let up with the foot to her back, he only presses down further, driving her down into the ground. "Remember who your maker is."

Damon feels all the pressure to leave evaporate. Compulsion. He should have realised, with Klaus being so much stronger than he is, that his powers would be strong enough to influence him. He remembers thinking that it is hopeless, that nothing he ever did would ever make a difference, but he should have known these aren't _his_ thoughts, his way of thinking. There is hope, and as long as there is hope... There is Jennifer.

He strikes out with the speed of a bullet and catches Klaus hard on the jaw with his foot high in the air. The vampire stumbles to the side and Jennifer inhales a large breath of air. Finally she can breath, but the phantom fist still clenches her heart. Her heart is as cold as ice when she is snatched up from the ground and flung out of the nearest window. For the second time she feels what it is like to break through a pane of glass, to feel splinters of glass cut into her skin, and what it is to land hard a story down on the ground. It hurts just the same as it did the first time, but at least...

She looks up just in time to see Damon being thrown out the window too, but instead of crashing to the ground he lands as graceful as a cat a metre away from her. She doesn't have time to wonder how he can still be so graceful, because the feel of his arms around her stops all thinking full-stop. All her brain records is the sensation of him pressing against her, how safe it feels, how natural. She is comfortable without her knowing it, and as he holds her close she feels close to heaven.

"You had better stop now, Damon..." Klaus's eerily calm voice still rings through the forest like a chiming bell, seeming to grow clearer and clearer even as they get further and further from him. Animals scurry away in fright, Damon runs faster than he ever has before, even with the burden of a woman in his arms. "I _will_ have her. She will be mine. Always. I'm warning you Damon."

"Go to hell." Damon growled, reaching the boarder of civilization. This isn't the Fell's Church of his human days. In this town, in this age, a woman belonged to no one. The only thing a man can claim from a woman is her love.

Tbc

A/N: is this chapter a good'n? Review if you can please :-)


	13. Chapter 13

_Sorry about the wait between chapters_

 **Don't Love Me**

13

Damon knows that taking Jennifer back to his place is less than ideal, but he cannot think of anywhere safer. Getting to somewhere private and safe, for both of them, seems like the best thing for now. He knows that the further he takes her from this town the better. The front door to the mansion is unlocked and he enters with vampire speed, slamming the door shut so firmly that the glass panes tremble.

He sets her down carefully on the solid wood floor, but he keeps his hands on her hips and she can hardly fathom what he must be thinking. There is also tenderness, she can feel, coming from him in wave after wave.

"We can't..." she begins to say, but his gentle touch silences her. She doesn't know what the rest of the sentence would have been, she cannot think while he cups her face and runs his thumb over her mouth, but she feels dread.

"You seem frightened, why is that?"

She gulps and she knows that he can hear her swallow. She's not stupid, she knows that there is no right answer. Whether he intends to abuse her a-fresh she cannot tell, but neither does she want to know beforehand. She would rather be ignorant of impending doom, should it be coming.

"I almost lost you, I could have lost you..." he speaks slowly, lingering over every word, his tongue moving languidly in his mouth. But it is not as if he ponders the horror of being Klaus's prisoner. Instead it is as if she were a prized pony that narrowly missed being turned into a burger. There is no sentimentality, only gratification. "I love you, Jennifer... So much..." he breathes the words on to her neck and it makes her shiver.

"I can't... Love you..." The words are forced out of her mouth by something she cannot control. That thing inside her won't even consider allowing him into her heart again, even after saving her from Klaus, because of how he tortured her before. The demon inside her growls in her chest, snapping it's inhuman teeth in refusal. "Not after... All that you have done..."

He seems frozen for a moment, his expression completely bland, as if her refusing him was the last thing he ever expected. In that moment he is so quiet it is as if everything has slowed to a stop inside him; only his eyes seem to show movement, as they glisten with a powerful emotion. "I _saved_ you." He reminds her softly, savagely, dangerously. "Don't you think I deserve some sort of compensation for the danger I put myself in? _Payment_?"

She tries to swallow again but her mouth is bone dry. Her throat aches but the rest of her has numbed. Her tongue is thick and heavy in her mouth, she knows she cannot speak, but she can nod her head, which she does. What else could she do? She cannot say no to him, cannot shake her head, not when she owes him her life. She cannot meet his eyes, though she can feel them on her-the look in them will be frightening, burning into her soul instead of just into her body. Each square inch of her skin feels burnt by the intensity of his pale irises, the flesh boiling hot, and if they meet her own surely that will blind her. She cannot be _that_ helpless.

"Answer me!" He's lost control and slapped her, hard enough to crack the floorboards she's fallen down onto. His nostrils flair wide and his hands ball into fists at his side. Doesn't she understand the risk he had taken, saving her? Doesn't she appreciate him coming for her at all? The way she looks up at him, eyes so full of shock and fear, could mean anything, or nothing at all. Nobody ever thinks about _him_ , of Damon Salvatore, of _his_ feelings. His brother didn't care about him; Elena never loved him; Jennifer's meant to love him, but she doesn't. He can see the indifference in her eyes and he _hates_ it. " _I said..._ " he kicks her harshly in the ribs, making sure to hit her with the steel tip of his boot. " _Speak..._ "

"Why did you take me away from that place!" With a choking sound, Jennifer lifts herself to all-fours and coughs, bloody foam sitting on her bottom lip, and she spits crimson onto the floor.

"Why did I _rescue_ you?" Damon seems incredulous. "He's a monster, I know that better than almost anyone." He walks away from her then, and into another room, leaving her crumpled in the hallway.

"You're a... Monster..." Every word feels like a shard of glass, slicing into her throat, and she doesn't want to speak any more. She doesn't want to _be_ any more. She just wants to die.

Something glass is put firmly onto a counter, she recognises the sound. His shoes make a slight clicking sound on the tiled floor. He's at the kitchen door-way and he's making her squirm. He's watching her. He suddenly smiles wide, his white teeth stained with red. "And don't you forget it." He is as quick as lightening, crossing the space between them, but not a drop has been spilt from the glass of bright red liquid.

"Drink up," he thrusts the drink towards her and presses the glass against her mouth, "after all, you're a monster too."

Leaving Jennifer in the manor alone, with so many breakable things inside, makes him nervous, but he has to get away from her for a while and his home is the safest place for her. Leaving her in a place where some unsuspecting human would discover her is out of the question, stupid. His finger presses hard against the button, and he hears the trilling sound flood the inside of the house. "Bonnie? Are you home?" He doesn't expect that she will be able to hear him, but his voice remains normal. It's not the first time that he has stood outside her front door, calling to her with his mind; Her brain knows his, their magic mingled nicely, and she will sense him and respond, like always.

 _What's taking her so long, this time?_ Every second he has to wait feels wasted.

Voices; she isn't alone in there. _Who does she have with her?_

Damon steps back from the front porch as silently as he can, still hearing the voices, echoing in his head. Bonnie never took this long to answer the door, especially if it's him.

Already the blood has stopped flowing from her mouth. The gash on the inside of her cheek, caused by her sharp teeth biting into it, has completely disappeared. She doesn't hurt any more, not anywhere, but instead of being glad she feels suspicious of this miraculous recovery. She already knows that healing is quick now, but this is just insane. Her "master" won't be pleased to see her this well recovered, whenever he returns, but she cannot bring herself to turn to self-harm just to keep him happy.

She stands up from her crumpled position on the floor and feels for the bruises she knows must be on her somewhere. First she touches her arms, the skin feels smooth and unblemished, then she moves to her breasts, no more tender than usual, then her hips and thighs. All feels as it should, not as if she had been thrown down, as if she chose to rest on the ground simply because she was tired. Her hand moves between her legs, just to check, but everything feels all right there too. Shouldn't there be _something_ left after his brutal attack on her body?

 _Tap, Tap, Tap._ Above her she can hear a noise, faint but persistent, like fingernails tapping against wooden floorboards. She thought that she was alone here, but maybe not, maybe the master has other women here, as slaves? Maybe they need help, and maybe she can help them. At the very least she may be able to help someone escape, and at most she would escape too.

 _Tap, Tap, Tap._

" _I'm coming,_ " she whispers softly, as if to comfort whoever it was that needed her help. Already half way up the flight of shining wood stairs, Jennifer thought she could smell blood. Thick and coagulated, but it still made her mouth water. She licks her lips and closes her eyes to enjoy the heady aroma, her body in automatic and still climbing upwards. " _Just wait... I'm coming..._ "

She reaches the top and kept walking. She turns corners and passes by closed doors as if she knows what lies behind them without ever being here before. Something almost _supernatural_ pulls her towards a bedroom at the back of the house, and it is this that makes her stop dead in her tracks. Why does she want to go into _that_ room, specifically? Why not any of the others? Something isn't right, she can feel the wrongness like a collar around her neck, choking her. Her legs ache to continue down the hall, but she focuses all her strength on staying still. "Master?" She chokes out. "Damon?"

"Come." One word, but it's full of threat. One word, and she's certain it isn't Damon.

"Please..." her feet shuffle forwards without leaving the floor, moving closer to death, against her will. "Please... Please... I can't... Please... Don't..."

"Don't what?" Klaus asked from inside the room. "Don't... Love you?" He laughs and settles back further into the pillows behind his back. "Don't... Show you just how _much_ I want you?"

"Please no..." she whimpers, shuffling through the door and seeing him at last. "... Please, just don't..."

Tbc

A/N: Sorry this took so long, really. What do you think of this chapter? Should Klaus be nasty? I write to please :-)


	14. Chapter 14

Don't Love Me

14

Even knowing already what she'll see, she isn't prepared; she's startled by the sight of a monster laying so casually, waiting for her. He's just how she remembers, perfect and handsome, with a smile that sends terror straight to her heart. Just the sight of him makes her cold inside, but it is nothing compared to what she feels when he touches her. He _will_ touch her again, it's only a matter of time. Her legs continue forwards relentlessly, ignoring her efforts to still them, as if they are not her own and are controlled by _him._ She doesn't understand exactly what the nature of his hold on her is, but she finds the power irresistible. To be in his power is like being at the mercy of a powerful drug, and she knows this addiction will kill her if she doesn't get clean.

"Come..." Klaus's voice does something for her, turns her on, and the expression in his dark, dark eyes makes things inside her ache. Almost painful, but not quite. Whatever he's doing, she cannot decide whether or not it is pleasurable. "Come now... Come quickly..."

With a shout of surprise Jennifer feels her legs tremble and go limp, she falls to the ground howling and panting like a dog. Warm and liquid, a feeling of completeness flows inside her, pulling her down into it's depths. She can hardly see past the white hot ball of ecstasy threatening to rupture at any moment, but her thoughts are still clear. She's able to think, but she would rather be dead to the world than conscious and unable to protect herself. This is _his_ doing, his ability as her sire, she knows, his power to command her body as well as her mind.

This takes her back to before she escaped, and reminds her of her promise. She promised herself that she would run forever, run until her legs disintegrated beneath her, to ensure that she was never his prisoner again. If she never met Damon, would she still be running, or would have something else have stopped her more permanently? She shudders at the cold darkness inside her head, the voice that ponders if _that_ would have been better.

"Please, please stop!" She doesn't know how much longer she can stand this agony.

Klaus gets up and off the bed, knowing that she'll never make it there. His footsteps are slow and deliberate as he approaches, purposefully. He wants the submissiveness she's been so far lacking, and he wants it _now._ He wants her to know how much she doesn't matter, and how much she should be punished for supposing that she does; She shouldn't have run away from him, and deserves whatever he gives her.

Jennifer feels her panties being soaked as Klaus gets down beside her, sitting with one arm propping himself upright. His gaze on her is smouldering and she would flinch away from him if she could move. "You are in _so_ much trouble..." He whispers the words in her ear, so sensually that it makes her whimper in frustration, unable to find release of any kind. Does he intend to torture her this way, to death?

"Please..." she whimpers,

Quicker than a snake, he latches onto her throat and drinks. She remembers him doing this to her before, but she had somehow forgotten the pain. It hurts so much-how could she have forgotten?

 _I will make you suffer_ , his voice is in her head as he takes mouthful after mouthful of her blood. _You will beg for death, but I will not give it to you. Not you, not now..._

Klaus raises his head, his mouth is stained red with blood, and he licks his lips while frowning slightly. Her neck muscles are so tense, he can see them straining, and her blood is so close to the surface. "You taste of _him_." The realisation strikes him as forcefully as a physical blow, snapping his head to the side. He finds that he cannot look at her, knowing that there is a bond between her and Damon that he cannot touch. He will really make her suffer now.

"Please..." she feels as though that is all she ever says, _please..._ "don't hurt me any more..." Until this moment, she never realised just how much Damon has affected her. His essence most likely entered her from his fangs, but he has entered her in other ways, too. She can feel him like a buzz in her head, like a niggling feeling she cannot ignore. Wherever he is, she feels as though he is thinking of her...

"How could you have let him drink your blood!? It's mine, I tell you! You're all mine!"

* * *

"How do we know you're telling the truth, Damon? It wouldn't be the first time you've lied to us," Elena's cool gaze scrutinized him from where she stood in the doorway. The first thing she asked was "or the fifth." and her scathing retorts continue from there. Her hands are on her hips and she has a stone cold glare.

"I came to ask _Bonnie_ for help, I never wanted you, Elena." He tries to see past Elena and into the cool interior of the house, but she is nowhere to be seen. "Where is she..." he thinks a moment. "... _Please..._ "

"She's not home-" she begins, but not in time to prevent Bonnie from coming into sight behind her.

"Damon? What are you doing here?" Her voice is unsure, confused.

With a pointed, sideways look at Elena Damon stepped past her into the house. He approaches Bonnie slowly even with all the haste he feels. This has to be handled carefully, his request will be sincere, because he has a feeling that Elena will feel some degree of jealousy about Jennifer.

"Klaus is back, and he-"

"He's going to try and kidnap me, isn't he?" Elena interrupts, melodramatically holding her face with her hand. "We should have known we could never have defeated an original so easily..."

Damon wanted to tell her to 'Just shut the f*k up' and to stop making everything about her, but he stopped himself in time. Bonnie is her friend, and the witch is extremely loyal to her friends. He breathed out in exasperation and tried to focus on why he is here in the first place. "Elena," he says mildly, "This time it's not about you. I'm here for Bonnie..." he groans at his choice of words.

"She'll never help you with your... Your _girlfriend..._ "

"Actually, Elena, I think I will. You're telling us that there's a human girl in danger, from Klaus, the big nasty..."

Damon nods, quick and decisively.

"Of course I'll help you save her, it's my duty as one of the good guys, after all." She felt a little smile on her lips at the blatant look of relief on Damon's face. He looks to her so vulnerable, and it's just a little disturbing to see such humanity on a monster. As she turns to Elena, the small smile drops completely away. "Do you plan on helping _me_?" Her voice is as stern as a school teachers; Elena can stand there and be petty, or she can be a good person and rescue someone in trouble from the bad guys. It is her choice, but Bonnie hopes like hell that her tone persuades her and that she makes the right one.

"Fine." She responds at last, staring fixedly at the ground. Her shoulders feel so tense. Why were they always having to risk their own lives to save another's? It doesn't seem fair somehow that she can never go a week without some kind of drama.

* * *

Jennifer lays on the ground, face first in a pool of her own blood. The blood is not from one injury but from the many Klaus has inflicted just in the past hour. She knows that it has been an hour because he has remarked on the time once or twice-always in relation to when he expects Damon to "Swoop" in and save her. That was his word, _Swoop._ As if he could fly in here at any moment and save her.

If only her injuries did not heal instantly, and all the blood was allowed to leave her, maybe there would be a way out of this mess. As it was, he could keep her in this state of near-death, but not-quite, forever.

 _Is this all because I ran from you?_ She's never tried to communicate with him this way before, herself, but if he can invade her thoughts then maybe she can enter his too. She suspects that he has already told her the answer, but she has forgotten. Her thirst is driving her wild and already it is making her forget things. Slowly she is forgetting the feel of Damon, his scent, his powerful aura, and she knows that it will only get worse the further she spirals down into madness.

"You are mine, and there's nothing that will change that, not even you," he speaks swiftly, and she cannot decide whether it is answer to her silent question, "Certainly not anything _Damon Salvatore_ can do will change that..." he ends his sentence with a growl so menacing it raises the hairs all over her skin. The sound of his name out loud does strange things to her heart, or what she supposes is her heart beat.

"Stop it!" She cannot help her actions, and places a hand on his chest to keep him from getting any closer to her. Her own strength, and abilities, astounds her. How does she have the strength to keep his mouth from hers, how is that possible? All this time she has been just too weak to fend him off, or had that only been in her head? Believing that she cannot possibly fight him could have been the only thing stopping her from doing it, and now she believes she knows she has it in her to do anything.

Klaus recovers far too fast. He slams her down onto the floor and pins her there using nothing more than his own strength. He leans down onto the bones of her forearms with all his weight and he watches her face intently as the pressure becomes unbearable. Being so young, she has not lived through enough true pain to suffer through it in silence, and screams as her bones begin to buckle under him. He positions himself; This should be fun, taking her _as_ she screams, and not before.

 _In..._ Her breath is taken away by the sensuous movement as he plunges deeper into her than he has ever before.

 _Out..._ The agony of him leaving her empty again fills her with all the aches she has ever had, combined.

 _In..._ Her inner walls clench around him so tightly, it's as if her body never wants him to leave.

 _Out..._ She screams out in a painful mix of delight and despair. Why won't he thrust into her again? Why does he do this to her over and over, again and again?

"Please!"

He pauses, his face set in grave lines but with a twinkle in his eyes. "Stop?"

"No, please!" She doesn't know what she wants, but she's never felt pleasure like this before in her life.

He rolls off and away from her, satisfied in one way at least. He grins and begins to feign getting dressed again. He doesn't really intend to stop there, not when things are finally becoming like how they should, but he wants to make her as horny as he possibly can, as needy as a dog in heat.

"Master! Master..." She has no problem with being subservient to him if it can get her what she wants, what she feels she needs desperately... Him inside her... "Please, please, please... Don't leave me like this..." She feels her dampness growing, coming out of her with each clench of her inner muscles.

Klaus frowns. "I don't think you _really_ want it, Jennifer."

"But I do! I do! Please, please, please!"

With vampire speed, he flips her over onto her front and positions his member at the tight entrance of her buttocks. He dipped his fingers into her, stretching and probing the tender flesh.

Jennifer has never felt anything like this before, and she cannot decide whether she should be feeling as aroused as she does. Something about his fingers... Their length... Their thickness... They do something to her that she cannot stand. She begins panting, but breathing feels difficult when laying on her stomach, restricted.

"You like _this_?" he whispers softly into her ear, from so close she knows that he must be leaning over her. "You want me to continue?"

"Please..." it's all she can say, all her mind is capable of. "Please..."

A/N: What do you think?


	15. Chapter 15

Don't Love Me

15

His fingers withdraw with lightening speed. His hands move to her hips, and he raises her slightly so that her body will accept him. He doesn't wait another moment, he plunges in. Klaus's fingers now cover her mouth, to smother the scream, and smother her lips with her own juices. He only laughs.

Jennifer's lips stay firmly shut, but she can still smell and that is almost as bad. There is no way she can fight him like this, but neither can she accept what he is doing to her. No, _no_. No, this can't be happening-all there is to be had. There must be salvation, must be something, or someone, to bring it to her. Vampires are supposed to be damned by default, but what of vampires that never chose the path into darkness? What about them?

"You..." He stabs into her this time so hard, so viciously, so mercilessly that her insides feel as though they are tearing in two. Blood coats him, but he continues to move. "... Will... _Never_ leave me... You will _never_... Leave this place alive..."

"Damon!" Jennifer calls the only name she can remember, she is in so much agony, and she shouts it with all the energy she has left. Afterwards, she slumps completely into the soft mattress, totally and completely spent.

"No you don't..." he snarls, lunging over and onto her back, grasping her neck while still definitely still inside her. "You are mine."

...

"Was it definitely Klaus?" Bonnie asked the question in exactly the way she thought it in her head, bluntly, and instantly regretted not thinking it through properly first. Damon's expression was such a mixture of white-hot rage, and all-consuming sorrow, that she didn't know what to make of it. Her hands felt suddenly far too big and bulbous and tucked them quickly into the pockets of her jacket; uncomfortable in her own skin.

"Definitely." One word, but it was bitten out through lengthened teeth. He could feel the change like a second skin, changing his features better than any mask. In the back of his mind he knew he did not what to frighten Bonnie, but it didn't seem to make the slightest bit of difference. Jennifer's terrified voice keeps echoing in his head, over and over, like a curse, and he knew the only way to rid himself of it was to find her, and save her. He _would_ save her, there is no doubting it in his mind.

"Should we bring Elena and Stefan into this? They might be-"

"No!"

Damon's roar shattered Bonnie's mind for a few precious moments. If he wanted to kill her then he could have, he could have done it while she stood absolutely stock still. "I have the same spell we used last time Klaus came to town in the Grimoire?" Her sudden weariness made the statement a question.

"That's something I suppose." He sounded, even to himself, bored but after feeling nothing but dread in his chest, the little slither of hope was disarming. "Though, I imagine we'll have to bring them in on this latest development, even if they're both useless." He meant it too; the two are the bane of his existence, two of the few things on this planet capable of causing him to suffer emotionally.

Bonnie's searching eyes were steady upon him, even when he met them with a question. "What?" he asked.

"I never told Elena this," Bonnie's hand ran smoothly over the cover of the ancient volume in her hands. "but... There's a spell..."

Damon through down his hands, which had been tucked up above his head, and fought the irritation boiling within him. "Would I have come here if I thought there wasn't?" He leant forwards so his face was but a few inches from hers, "Would I have wasted my time with you?" He froze like that, face almost touching hers, before remembering.

She didn't smile, even after reading his face and his thoughts. "I suggest you make sure to remember, write it down if you have to, that I have secrets just like you do. Don't underestimate me, Damon. I know a way of defeating an Original without even the white-oak stake..."

Without knowing he would do it beforehand, without truly meaning to, his hand shot out and grasps hers. He grips the long, dark fingers carefully, but with a pressure she was sure to feel. He looks down at their clasped fingers, believing that he felt stronger.

"Please... I beg you... Please, it's not for me, this is for Jennifer... I love her..."

...

Jennifer awoke, and for once she feels completely alone. Still on the bed, still on her front, still utterly naked. She doesn't know what might have happened after she passed out, but it couldn't have been much. In fact she feels better than before, more refreshed, more _alive_ , for lack of a better word. What did Klaus do once he saw her unconscious, did he stop, or did he take advantage of her prone state? She felt too good for it to be the latter, surly.

"Hello?" There is no answer, not even the tick of a clock to break the silence. "Master... Are you there?" Her mind buzzes. _Am I alone?_

"I never left." It is the only sound, and it is far too loud.


	16. Chapter 16

Don't Love Me

16

"I've been pondering what to do with you..." Klaus begins by saying conversationally, sitting in the shadows in a large straight-backed armchair. He doesn't move from it when he sees that Jennifer is awake, only steeples his fingers and presses them against his closed lips; pensive. His mouth is a white line as he considers her, eyes burning with some inner fire or passion not yet sated. "When you left me that first, that _only_ time, I was worried. I thought-how the fuck do I get you back, How do I ensure you don't create _problems_ for me?" He stood all at once in an easy, effortless movement, never shifting his gaze from her like a predator closing in on the kill.

"I..." Her voice is snuffed instantly by his hand on her mouth, on her face. She has no choice but to let the words die on her tongue. She can taste him on her lips, and it's revolting. He tastes of evil, of brimstone and sulphur, like something straight of hell. Has he always been so twisted? She can't know. Is the spell Klaus's mother used, all those years ago, made him what he is? Is it really his fault that he's a monster? "I... I won't leave again... I promise..." Her words are muffled, but still audible.

He's somewhere behind her on the bed, in an instant of sudden movement, and she still cannot see him. But she can feel his power, the preternatural attraction between them, and his will overpowering hers. The attraction is there, and she cannot deny it's presence, but it is not natural to her. To him, maybe, but the last thing she wants is to be in his grasp. If he ever tells her to get on all-fours and bark, she would have to do it, and if he orders her to slit her wrists to please him she would be dead within minutes. Silently, her veins throb with blood

Klaus took in a long, drawn-out intake of air and blew it out slowly along the skin of her back; her spine straightens and her skin pebbles with goosebumps. Her scent tickled his nose, that mix of adrenaline and fear. "I know you will not. I know, because I will make _sure_ of it. For as long as I breathe you will never see the light of day again, understood!?" And with the last, furious proclamation he tears the lazuli ear-rings from her ears. He clutches his bloody trophies tightly, feeling the warmth of her blood spilling through his fingers.

...

"Damon, is that really necessary?" Bonnie halted with her hand inside a moth-eaten rucksack, staring at the shotgun. "A gun won't kill an Original, you know." She retracts her hand from the bag and holds a shinning stone out in front of her defiantly. " _This_ can do a lot more damage."

"A rock? I doubt it," Damon lounged back against a far wall, watching her through narrowed eyes, the weapon still definitely in his hands. He knew his skills with a shot-gun were damn good, but a rock? What good would a rock do against an Original vampire? The most damage he could do was to an eye-if he aimed right. Of course, the rock could have special powers, or it could not. He would not take any chances.

"What if I could guarantee you results?"

His interest peaked, Damon stood straight and raised a single dark eyebrow. "All the same, I'm still bringing the gun."

...

 _Don't let him think he's won._

 _Don't let him think he's won._

 _Don't let yourself believe he's won._

Jennifer tries to concentrate of the words, and not the pain consuming her entire body. Her ears throb painfully as they heal, regenerating flesh that he tore away, but that is nothing compared to the agony of his body plunging into hers over and over, again and again. Her body can't take much more, never mind that she heals almost instantly, before it shatters.

He tells her she needs to learn to submit. To give herself to him completely. To forget that there's anything else in this world more important than pleasing him. He wants her to forget _him_ , but that's not possible. Not while there's still hope, not while he's still out there, still looking for her. He must be looking for her.

 _Please let him be looking for her._

 _Damon..._

 _..._

"Fire crackle, wind blow, take me to the place, take me to where I have to go..." Bonnie brakes off suddenly and blinked to clear the mist from her vision. She can see veins beneath Damon's eyes, and his bones seem to have shifted subtly. "What is it? What's happening?" This is the first time she has ever tried to do this kind of magic, and one mistake could mean disaster.

"Don't stop..." His teeth clench around the words as he tries to fight the impulse to drop the magic rock he gripped so tightly. She told him not to let go of it, even for a moment, and for once he would listen to the witch. Even now, in the midst of pain, he could sense the object's power and potential-it burned a pattern into his palm.

"Bring the night, make it black, take us to our treasure, so that we might bring it back..."

With a shout he drops the rock to the ground. It sizzles and sparks until suddenly...


End file.
